


Introduction to Parenting

by ama



Series: An Exploration of the Nadir-Barnes Canon [2]
Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Deaf Character, Domestic Fluff, Family, Gen, Kid Fic, Light Angst, M/M, Muslim Character, Parenthood, Screenplay/Script Format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:21:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25079818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ama/pseuds/ama
Summary: Troy and Abed's found family gets a little bigger, and it turns out Stuart Little has set some unrealistic standards.
Relationships: Troy Barnes/Abed Nadir
Series: An Exploration of the Nadir-Barnes Canon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1772737
Comments: 45
Kudos: 211
Collections: fav fics ever : hall of fame





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a traditional fic, and then it started fighting me, so it became a script format, and then it got LONG. It'll be either two or three chapters, depending on how long a few remaining scenes turn out to be. Dialogue in [square brackets] is signed in American Sign Language, and dialogue that is both in brackets and italicized is signed and spoken more or less simultaneously. I didn't try to match English grammar to ASL grammar just for ease of reading and writing. And yes, we can assume that words like "blorgon" are being finger-spelled.

It takes a bit of thought about where to begin. Abed, personally, likes misdirects, even though they’re a little cheap. He would probably want to open on a scene from 8bit, with a woman in black-framed glasses tearfully telling an out-of-focus black-haired man that he should end his marriage and run away with her instead, thereby setting up a dramatic romance plot before panning away to reveal Abed standing just off a crowded soundstage, watching a monitor.

The problem with 8bit, though, is that it’s a very good show, and therefore doesn’t have any dramatic speeches hinting at soap opera plots. So in reality, it would probably go something like this:

OPEN on an over-the-shoulder shot of a WOMAN in black-framed glasses talking to an out-of-focus BLACK-HAIRED MAN.

WOMAN:  
Thanks for your help today. That pitch was crashing and burning and you saved my ass. I really appreciate it.  
(She slings a backpack over her shoulder and lingers by the door.)  
And, um… I’m sorry for what I said about your husband. You two are great together. I guess I was just a little jealous. I--may have had a little bit of a crush on you.

BLACK-HAIRED MAN:  
I know.

WOMAN:  
Was that a Star Wars reference?

BLACK-HAIRED MAN:  
Not everything is a Star Wars reference. Nerd.

She laughs.

WOMAN:  
Yeah, okay. Good night.

BLACK-HAIRED MAN:  
Good night.

She exits.

ABED (off-camera):  
Cut!

PAN away to reveal ABED NADIR standing just off a crowded soundstage _,_ watching a monitor.

ABED:  
Okay, that was good. That’s a wrap for today. No late arrivals tomorrow morning, people--the RC robots are on loan so we really have to stick to the schedule.

The cast and crew begin to dissipate. The EXECUTIVE PRODUCER comes over to Abed.

EXECUTIVE PRODUCER:  
That was great. I can’t wait to see what you do with the RC robots--which I don’t remember seeing in my draft of the script, incidentally.

ABED:  
Trust me, they’ll be great.

EXECUTIVE PRODUCER:  
Yeah, okay. Speaking of trusting you, I looked over that script you sent me and… it’s really good. I think it might be ready to move forward.

ABED:  
Yeah?

EXECUTIVE PRODUCER:  
Yeah. You should start thinking about meeting with some producers. I’d be happy to set something up.

She pats him on the arm and walks away.

ABED (calling after her):  
Thanks!

EXECUTIVE PRODUCER:  
But you still owe me half a season, Nadir.

CUT to Abed leaving the studio, slinging a messenger bag over his shoulder and smiling to himself. He takes his cell phone out of his pocket to see a missed call from Troy. Curious, he places a call.

TROY (off-camera):  
Hello?

ABED:  
Hey, what’s up?

TROY:  
Oh hey, are you done shooting?

ABED:  
Yeah, we just finished.

TROY:  
Are you going anywhere after, or…?

ABED:  
No, why?

TROY (unconvincing):  
No reason. I just wanted to have dinner together, so I thought I’d check.

ABED:  
We always have dinner together. Unless we tell each other in advance that we have plans, and neither of us did that today.

TROY:  
I know. I love that about us. Cool, then, I’ll see you soon!

He hangs up. Abed looks at his phone, puzzled, then CLOSEUP on his phone screen. He opens the Netflix application. There are four profiles on the account: Jeff, Britta, Sebastian, and Get Your Own Account!!!. He taps on the latter. CUT to his face, one eyebrow rising, then:

INT. TROBED APARTMENT

Abed closes the door behind him and goes right to the dining room table, where Troy is setting down two dishes.

ABED:  
You watched Stuart Little.

TROY (wailing):  
I _did_.  
(He buries his face in Abed’s chest)  
He was part of their family even though he was a mouse! He had an empty space inside of him and they filled it!

ABED (patting his back):  
Yeah, he was. And now you want to have that talk again. You know a talking mouse probably won’t be an option, right?

TROY (sniffling):  
I know.  
(He pulls away)  
And even if they were, in real life I still think mice are disgusting. Respect to Fievel, though.

They both kiss two fingers and raise them to the sky. Troy leans back against the table.

TROY:  
I don’t know, man, it’s like things have been going so good lately--and have you ever noticed how many kids there are, just like, around? Because I’ve been seeing them everywhere. Yesterday at the grocery store I was in line behind this baby who was making faces, and when I made faces back, she laughed and it was like the greatest feeling ever, and then on the way back there were these kids playing basketball in the park, and one of them had a little brother who was trying to play but he couldn’t so his dad picked him up and helped him dunk, and I was like, I want that, you know? I want a kid to think I’m that cool!  
(Pause)  
Yeah. I think… I think I’m finally more excited than scared.

Abed takes a deep breath and nods a few times, eyes wide.

ABED:  
What’s for dinner?

TROY:  
Nachos.

ABED:  
Cool. Cool, cool, cool. Need any help?

TROY:  
Nope, they’re already in the oven. Can you get drinks, though?

ABED:  
Sure.

The oven timer goes off. Troy takes a tray out of the oven and Abed gets a Lemon Fresca and a Diet Squirt from the fridge. They sit down. Abed picks at the chips on his plate.

ABED:  
Annie is probably the best option for a surrogate, narrative-wise. It’d be a nice throwback to Chez Trobeddie, and I think technically that would make the baby Jewish, which could lead to some amusing Abrahamic antics down the road. We could mix our DNA so we don’t know who’s the biological father, although presumably it would end up looking identical to one of us so the point would be moot.

TROY:  
That would be _awesome_. Us and two little clones of us? Honestly, people might not be able to handle the awesomeness.

ABED:  
Mm.

TROY:  
But actually, I looked it up and surrogates need to have had a baby already, so it couldn’t be Annie. Britta could do it.

Beat.

ABED:  
So you were thinking adoption?

TROY:  
I think so, yeah. If that’s cool.

ABED:  
Why wouldn’t it be cool?

TROY (gently):  
Because you haven’t blinked since you got home. Have you… changed your mind?

ABED:  
No. Definitely not. It’s just that when we first talked about kids, I think I was thinking in sitcom trope, where characters barely seem to spend any time at their jobs and kids always disappear unless they’re plot-relevant. I work long hours when we’re filming, and if _Police Justice_ gets picked up I’ll probably be working even more…

TROY:  
Yeah, but it’s not like you work and then go out partying all the time because you don’t care. You work, then you come home and be the best husband ever, so I know you’ll be a great dad, too. And our kid won’t be left alone all the time because you were smart enough to marry a freelance air conditioning repairman who teaches one modern dance class a week and has 15.7 million dollars’ worth of shares in a moist towelette empire.

ABED:  
15.7?

TROY (grinning):  
It’s a good time to be in the moist towelette game. Anyway. If I have turn down a couple jobs to be home a little more, that’s fine. I can do that. _We_ can do this.

Abed nods and attempts a smile. Troy’s face softens.

TROY:  
Hey. Do you think you could eat dinner with only one hand if you had to?

ABED:  
Probably. Why?

Troy rests his hand on the table between them, palm up. Abed smiles, more naturally. He takes Troy’s hand, and they continue to eat one-handed. FADE OUT on their interlaced fingers.

MONTAGE:

  * INT. TROBED APARTMENT: Troy and Abed happily watching Pacific Rim, with Mako Mori and Stacker Pentecost on the screen.
  * INT. TROBED APARTMENT: Troy and Abed sitting in front of a laptop. Their faces are serious and they take a deep breath. Troy lifts his hand dramatically, finger pointing down, and… CUT to the screen: he hits a button labeled “SUBMIT.” Greatly relieved, they do their handshake.
  * INT. A SHABBY OFFICE: CLOSEUP on a packet labeled Police Justice, by Abed Nadir & Marisol De Soto. TILT UP to reveal Abed, perched on a chair, excited and nervous. Shot of a WEIRD PRODUCER smoking a cigarette, wearing an ugly brown suit and an uglier tie. He grins and nods. REACTION SHOT of Abed frowning.
  * INT. TROBED APARTMENT: Troy and Abed watching Tarzan. Onscreen, Tarzan is holding Kerchak’s hand as he dies. Troy is sobbing. Abed pats his shoulder.
  * INT. A CLASSROOM: A TEACHER stands in front of a blackboard. At the top it reads “HOW TO BECOME A SUCCESSFUL PARENT,” and the remainder of the board is taken up by a complicated flowchart. At the bottom right-hand corner is a glossy photo of a beaming couple and two beaming children. Abed scribbles in a notebook. Troy tilts his head, squinting at the board.
  * INT. FANCY OFFICE: A FANCY PRODUCER with a severe bob and red lipstick. She has a copy of Police Justice in her hand. She is talking continuously throughout the scene (indistinctly) while slashing at the script with a pen. SHOT of Abed, leaning forward, holding up a finger and pointing it at the script.



ABED (indistinct):  
Um--if I could just--um--

He wrests the script away from her and leaves with an awkward wave.

  * INT. TROBED APARTMENT: Troy and Abed watch Les Miserables from behind a barricade of all their furniture.
  * INT. TROBED APARMENT: A caseworker named MIRANDA peers around the Dreamatorium Mach 3, holding a clipboard.



MIRANDA (indistinct):  
Oh wow, this is great for kids. A bit early in the process, though…

Troy and Abed glanced at each other, and shrug, making “well…” gestures.

  * INT. MODEST OFFICE: A JEFF GOLDBLUM-ESQUE PRODUCER in a shabby suit sits at a desk with a copy of Police Justice in front of him. He reaches for a pen and knocks over an entire cup of them. In trying to fix it, he spills a small box of business cards and a cup of coffee. REACTION SHOT of Abed, looking very weary of this whole process.
  * INT. TROBED APARTMENT: Troy and Abed, cuddled up in the same chair, watching Star Wars as Luke Skywalker eats with his aunt and uncle. They are extremely content.
  * INT. YET ANOTHER OFFICE: A congenial, bearded PRODUCER wearing a nice suit smiles and says something (no audio), gesturing at the script in front of him. He holds out his hands to Abed in a “what do you think?” gesture--Abed smiles and shakes his hand.



END MONTAGE. DISSOLVE TO:

INT. AGENCY OFFICE

The reception area of a poorly-funded government agency office. Abed is sitting, straight-backed, in a chair against the wall. Troy is slightly slumped, glancing around them, bouncing his leg anxiously. Abed reaches out, without looking, and puts a hand on his knee. He goes still. Abed removes his hand. He starts bouncing his leg again.

ABED:  
Relax. We’ve made it this far, right? What could go wrong?

TROY (high-pitched and mildly insulted):  
Don’t use your reassuring Dad in an apocalyptic blockbuster voice on me! Plenty could go wrong, okay? Plenty.

ABED:  
All our paperwork has gone through and we passed the background check.

TROY:  
Yeah, but background checks are for past crimes, not future ones. What about precogs? What if this is a precog trap?

ABED:  
I’m not planning on committing any future crimes. Are you?

TROY:  
No, but neither was Tom Cruise. That’s the point of precogs, they know the future before you do!

ABED:  
Okay.

The RECEPTIONIST, who has been glancing at Troy every minute or so, leans forward on her elbows.

RECEPTIONIST:  
Hey, I’m sorry, but you look _really_ familiar to me. You were on that show, right? That video game show? There was an episode where they had to get, like, dancers to do modelling or whatever…?

TROY (sheepishly):  
Oh, yeah, that was me.

RECEPTIONIST:  
I knew it! I don’t really watch it, but my roommate loves that show and that’s like her favorite episode. You’re good.

TROY:  
Thanks.

ABED:  
You don’t like the show?

RECEPTIONIST:  
Eh, not really.

ABED:  
Why not? What’s wrong with it?

RECEPTIONIST:  
Um--

The caseworker walks up briskly. She doesn’t bother to stop--just slows down and swings back.

MIRANDA:  
Hi guys, sorry to keep you waiting--Abed, you can come on back.

He touches Troy’s knee again, then follows her back to a semi-enclosed office in the corner. The desk is supremely messy, covered in stacks of manila folders.

MIRANDA:  
Thanks for waiting. Things have been a little crazy--what am I kidding, things are always a little crazy around here. Take a seat.

Abed sits.

MIRANDA:  
Okay so basically I’m just going to ask you some more questions--always more questions, right? The home study was more, like, practical questions, and this is more abstract parenting stuff. I talk to you, I talk to Troy, I talk to you and Troy. Cool?

ABED:  
Cool, cool, cool.

MIRANDA:  
Great. So, to start off, how would you describe your own childhood?

REACTION SHOT of Abed, who is frozen, trying to think of an answer that is neither ‘I was raised by TV’ nor ‘I broke my parents’ marriage by age six.’

ABED:  
My parents divorced when I was young. I lived with my dad.

Beat.

MIRANDA:  
Did you get along?

ABED: **  
**Yes? I guess. I was a pretty quiet kid. I didn’t get in trouble very often. We talk more as adults.

MIRANDA:  
Oooookay.  
(looking at her notes)  
Do you think your parenting style would be similar to your parents’, or different?

ABED:  
Different, I guess. My dad was kind of like the Arabic version of the father in teen movie who pushes his son to play football, and then when his son gives up football he says “this was never my dream--it was yours!” except instead of football it was falafel, instead of him talking at me about football over the dinner table it was me talking at him about movies, and instead of being a preppy suburban football coach with an SUV and a generic wife figure, he was a sad divorced guy who worked too hard. I think I would spend more quality time with my kid. Do more activities. Say more encouraging things when they’re still young. Maybe make a boxcart or a model ship together if that’s still a thing. Of course, replicating the Field of Dreams scene is the ultimate goal, but that would involve visiting Iowa, so.

He holds his hand out and wiggles it. The caseworker crosses her arms and looks up at the ceiling, trying to be delicate. It’s difficult--she’s not a delicate person by nature.

MIRANDA:  
Did he ever… did you… um… So like, a lot of kids in the system at one point or another go through, like, testing, you know, for… stuff… is that something you--know abouuuut?  
(Her voice rises in pitch)

Abed swallows and smiles--a tight, fake smile.

ABED:  
Yeah. I went to a lot of specialists as a kid--none of them ever agreed on a diagnosis. My therapist thinks I’m managing pretty great without one, given the phenomenal success of my career, marriage, and friendships, so I haven’t bothered to try again.

MIRANDA (backtracking):  
Okay, great! Great. Um. What does a typical day look like for you?

FADE OUT. FADE IN a few minutes later. The caseworker puts down her pen and folds her hands.

MIRANDA:  
All right, so that’s almost everything. The only thing left is to talk for a bit about who you want to be matched with. There’s a website, you can search for kids yourself, but that’s also part of my job, to get in touch with the kid’s caseworker and be that link and you know it’s important to get an idea of what would make a good match. So like you’ve gone to the information sessions, you know a bit about what the system is like. Basically if you want a perfectly healthy white baby, you’re going to be waiting a while.

Abed frowns; he’s been called blunt plenty of time, but even he thinks that’s a little harsh.

MIRANDA:  
Meanwhile we’ve got older kids, Black and Latino kids, siblings, disabled kids coming out of our ears, so if you’d be interested in any of those, you don’t have to wait so long. Frankly it’s the kids who do the waiting, you know--ugh, just yesterday I did a check up on these kids--where’s that file--  
(She picks a folder off one of the stacks, seemingly at random)  
Ugh, so sad. Rickie and Leon, they’re seven and--four? five? almost five, I think--their mom died a year and a half ago. She and the father had separated or divorced or something, and a neighbor thinks he moved back to family in the Caribbean somewhere--anyway, we couldn’t find him, so in the system they go, and already siblings are tough, then Leon had meningitis when he was a baby and lost a lot of his hearing, so in the system they stay-- oh, hang on.

The phone rings. She picks it up and casually tosses the folder at Abed, who isn’t sure if he’s actually allowed to look at it--this has the feel of a scene in a heist movie where the conmen get access to confidential information. He looks anyway.

CLOSEUP on a paperclipped photo of RICKIE and LEON JONES, two young Black boys standing in front of a house and smiling at the camera. Rickie, the older one, is wearing a Rams hat and a black graphic t-shirt with the image of a zombie wearing sunglasses, which could have come straight out of Abed’s wardrobe. He beams widely at the camera. Leon’s smile is close-mouthed. He has longer hair than his brother and is wearing a plain blue shirt, plastic hearing aids on both ears, and a gray, half-face robot mask.

Brief REACTION SHOT of Abed before CLOSEUP on disjointed phrases from the paperwork on the other side of the folder: _Rickie is an outgoing and sociable boy who enjoys dancing, basketball, and outdoor games… Polite and friendly with others, especially younger children… Learning how to identify and explain his emotions… Leon is a quiet and thoughtful boy who loves coloring and pretend play… Affectionate towards foster parents but would do best, along with his brother, as the only children in the home… Both boys learning ASL with foster parents…_

CLOSEUP on Abed’s face, then slow PANNING CLOSEUP on the photo again.

MIRANDA:  
Sorry about that. So cute, right?  
(She whips the folder out of his hands.)  
They’ve been in the system for a little over a year and not one application. Super sad. Anyway.  
(She folds her hands and smiles brightly.)  
What are you guys looking for?

ABED (awkwardly):  
Well… we don’t have a lot of experience with infants, and neither of us is white, so we’re… not waiting for white babies.  
(He tilts his head away, watching her face in case this is too blunt.)  
We were thinking three years old or above, and Black or Arab is fine, I guess...

MIRANDA:  
Great. And do you think you guys could handle kids with disabilities? No shame, some people can’t.

ABED:  
Yeah, I think we could.

MIRANDA:  
And you get a bit more of a stipend from the state, too--

ABED:  
Money isn’t an issue.

MIRANDA:  
Isn’t _that_ nice. Okay, and what about sibling groups?

Abed looks at the folder. CUT to:

INT. AGENCY OFFICE/RECEPTION AREA

Troy is standing by the receptionist’s desk with his hands in his pockets. Abed walks by quickly and scoops him away.

ABED:  
I need to talk to you. Also, is she still talking about your cameo on 8bit?

TROY:  
Dude, you cast me because you wanted to watch me walking around set for a few days in tights and a leotard. Other people also like seeing me on camera in tights and a leotard. I’m very good-looking.

ABED:  
Did she tell you why she doesn’t like the show, because I--

TROY (grinning, thinking his husband is cute):  
What did you need to talk to me about?

ABED (rapidly):  
I told her we’d be open to adopting siblings.

REACTION SHOT: Troy jumps back, eyes wide. His voice raises in pitch.

TROY:  
What? Why would you do that? Abed, that was like the one thing we said we weren’t ready for!

ABED:  
I know, but we also said that we wanted a second kid eventually, and don’t you think it would be easier to get two who already like each other than worry about introducing two strangers later? George didn’t like Stuart at first.

TROY:  
Because Stuart was a mouse!

ABED:  
Also it means we only need to go through this whole process once, so you don’t have to worry about precogs again, and we would have even teams for pillow fights.

TROY (slowly):  
I guess… What aren’t you telling me?

Beat. Abed has that just-found-baby-birds look on his face. He swallows.

ABED:  
She showed me these kids… They’ve been in foster care since their mom died more than a year ago and haven’t had anyone even ask about them. Nobody wants them because they’re Black and there’s two of them and one of them is disabled, and--and they like robots and zombies and sports and playing pretend. And I know it might take months for us to get approved, and who knows, by that time someone else could have adopted them. It’s not about them, specifically but… There are a lot of those kids out there.

He shrugs. Troy watches him intently.

ABED:  
You can tell her you’re having second thoughts and we talked it over and we only want one. I won’t be mad.

Beat.

TROY:  
Okay.

ABED:  
Okay?

TROY:  
You know I’d do anything you’d do. This is crazy, but not much crazier than what we were already planning… and a lot less crazier than joining Glee Club because a psycho murderer played the piano convincingly.

They do their handshake. SHOT of the caseworker leaning out into the reception area, clutching a giant coffee.

MIRANDA:  
Troy? You ready?

TROY:  
Yeah.

She has already turned away, not waiting for an answer. Troy looks over his shoulder and gives Abed a hesitant smile and a wave. FADE OUT on Abed’s hopeful face.

INT. STUDIO BOARDROOM

ESTABLISHING SHOT of the city of Los Angeles, looking very shiny and fancy. OVERLAY: A Few Months Later. CUT to a large boardroom with an oval table, huge windows, and a lot of people. SHOT of Abed, staring out the window. His index finger twists against his cheek in the ASL sign for ‘bored’--he’s practicing, but he’s also bored. His producer sits next to him, talking in an indistinct voice to a STUDIO BIGWIG, a LAWYER, and various suited ASSISTANTS.

STUDIO BIGWIG:  
Sounds like it’s settled, then.  
(Pause.)  
Abed?

Abed startles. He looks at the studio bigwig, who is smiling.

ABED:  
Sorry, what?

STUDIO BIGWIG:  
It looks like we’ll be making your movie.

Abed looks at his producer. The producer nods. Abed looks back at the studio bigwig.

ABED:  
Cool. Cool, cool, cool.

He stands and offers the studio bigwig a firm handshake.

ABED:  
Cool.

He goes across the table, shaking each person’s hand and repeating “cool” each time. It’s very S3 E12 of The Office, although he is too stunned for an intentional homage.

STUDIO BIGWIG:  
Our lawyers will write all this up and send it to your people to review and sign. We’ll be in touch soon to talk location scouting and casting.

ABED (giving him a single finger gun):  
Good thinking. Excuse me.

He leaves the room, picking up speed with each step until he is practically sprinting down the hallway. He turns and races back to the room, flinging himself through the doorway.

ABED:  
Thank you!

He turns and runs away again; the camera remains with the studio employees, who look vaguely bemused. CUT to the producer, who just smiles in a “That’s Abed,” kind of way. CUT TO:

INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE TROBED APARTMENT

Abed fumbles with the doorknob, hands shaking badly.

ABED:  
Troy!  
(He tries the keys again, then hits the door)  
Troy!

TROY (offscreen):  
I’m coming!  
(He flings the door open, already beaming)  
I know!

ABED (hugging him):  
You know?

TROY:  
I know! This is the mos awesome thing that’s ever happened to us!

ABED:  
Fifty million cool points. Our wedding’s got nothing on this.

TROY:  
Right!

Abed pulls away, holding him by the shoulders.

ABED:  
I ran all the way here--I didn’t tell anybody else, I just wanted to see you--

Troy kisses him--a long, deep kiss, draping his arms around Abed’s neck.

ABED (mumbling):  
Best day.  
(He pauses and pulls back.)  
Wait, how do you know already?

TROY (laughing):  
Duh-doy. I got the email, too, dummy.

ABED:  
Oh.  
(Kisses him again.)  
Wait--there’s an email? I don’t think I got an email.

TROY:  
Really? Then how did you know?

ABED:  
Why would they add you to an email?  
(Beat)  
Miscommunication trope.

TROY:  
Huh?

ABED:  
I’m talking about Police Justice. What are you talking about?

TROY:  
Police Justice?  
(Eyes widen.)  
Oh my god, yeah, you had a meeting today! Wait--did they pick up Police Justice?! You’re going to be making a movie?!

ABED:  
Yeah.

TROY:  
Babe! That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you!

He kisses him again, but Abed is too puzzled to reciprocate much.

ABED:  
What are _you_ talking about?

Troy beams at him for a minute--he loves being able to deliver this news. He tugs at Abed’s blazer.

TROY:  
We got an email from Miranda. Rick and Leon’s caseworker want to know if we’re free this weekend to come over and meet them for a few hours.

ABED (dazed):  
But… they don’t do that for everybody who applies. Because they don’t want to give the kids false hope.

TROY:  
Nope.

ABED:  
They only schedule in-person visits if they think they’re going to approve the adoption.

TROY:  
Yup.

ABED:  
So, if we go--and it goes well--then we’ll probably get them.

Troy nods.

ABED:  
Oh my god.

He hugs Troy again.

TROY:  
Honestly, I think this might be worth a hundred million cool points.

ABED:  
Yeah. This is the Star Wars of days.

He draws back and kisses Troy briefly on the lips.

ABED:  
I love you for all time.

TROY (smiling):  
Yeah, well, I love you for all space.

They hug. TILT UP and FADE OUT.

EXT. FOSTER HOME

A car pulls up to a modest house with a chain-fenced-in yard. Four CHILDREN are running around in the front. CUT to Abed in the passenger seat, looking around.

TROY:  
Do you see them?

ABED:  
No. They must be inside.  
(He turns to look at Troy. As Inspector Spacetime:)  
Now remember, Constable Reggie, these lifeforms have yet to be fully studied, and many of their alien customs are peculiar and unpredictable. We must be cautious, adaptable, unflappable, reassuring, and above all else--cool. The success of our mission depends on it.

TROY (as Constable Reggie):  
Right-o, Inspector. The only blorgons we need to worry about are the ones in our own brains--and I mean metaphorical blorgons representing fear and nervousness and such, not tiny nano-blorgons.

ABED:  
My dear Reggie, I do believe you have mastered the Earth form of communication known as a “Winger speech.”

They smile at each other.

ABED (as himself):  
Let’s go.

They exit the car, carrying gift bags. As they approach the fence, a middle-aged WOMAN with long blonde hair, wearing mom jeans and an art teacher-type smock-shirt, comes out.

CHRSTINE (shaking their hands):  
Hi, you must be Troy and Abed. Nice to put faces to the paperwork--kids, knock it off!--I’m Christine. The boys are so excited to meet you--they’re in the back.

She chats as she takes them through the house to the backyard. Troy and Abed aren’t actually listening; they’re starting to look a bit keyed up. MIRANDA and another CASEWORKER are standing in the kitchen, talking, and there is another round of handshakes before finally they’re led over to the sliding glass door to the backyard, where Rickie and Leon are standing in the middle of the lawn, not paying attention. Rickie is doing a dance, move by move.

RICKIE:  
Then it goes like _this_ \--hat down, cross town, living like a rockstar--

LEON:  
Nuh uh, nuh uh. You said this  
(imitates an arm movement)  
was guitar.

RICKIE:  
Right, right, that’s what I meant--

TROY:  
Yooo, is there an Old Town Road dance? Nobody told me!  
(He looks at Abed, alarmed.)  
Are we getting old? Oh my god, are we streets behind?

Abed pats his arm reassuringly. Leon jumps and moves to stand halfway behind his brother. Rickie is somewhat subdued, but rises to the challenge.

RICKIE:  
Yeah--everybody’s doing it.

TROY:  
Cool!

CHRISTINE:  
Boys, this is Troy and Abed. Say hi.

RICKIE & LEON:  
Hi.

TROY:  
Hey, guys.

ABED:  
[Hi, nice to meet you.]

LEON (delighted):  
[You know sign?]

ABED:  
[Some. I’m still learning.]

LEON:  
[You’re good.]

ABED (smiling):  
[Thanks.]

TROY:  
Oh, I know that one! That’s “thanks.”  
(apologetically)  
[ _I’m learning slowly_.]

ABED:  
We brought you presents.

Troy holds out the gift bags.

ABED:  
We heard you like space. Us, too.

RICKIE:  
Cool!

The boys tear out the tissue paper and pull out two plush toys. Rickie’s is a [ teddy bear astronaut](http://www.geniegoods.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/12/National-Air-and-Space-Museum-Teddy-Bear-Astronaut.jpg), Leon’s a [ plush alien](https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/81g4onncKIL._AC_SY679_.jpg). They both make appreciative, excited noises, then pause, glance at each other, and swap.

CHRISTINE:  
Boys!

TROY:  
No, no, it’s totally fine.  
(He squats down to Leon’s height.)  
So you like to be the astronaut, huh?

Leon nods. He squeezes the toy tightly.

TROY:  
That’s cool. It’s good to know the rules. Do you want to play space?

Leon looks at Rickie, who puts an arm around his shoulder.

RICKIE:  
Welllll… that’s kind of _our_ thing.

TROY:  
Okay, no worries. Do you think you could teach me that dance, then?

RICKIE:  
Yeah!

They go back to the center of the yard. Leon sits down on the small concrete deck, and Abed sits down next to him. HIS POV as he watches Rickie starting to lead Troy in the first steps of the dance, then glances at Leon. A minute passes. Abed flaps his hand to get Leon’s attention.

ABED (as Inspector Spacetime):  
[ _Tell me--do you have a name for this space explorer?]_

Leon looks at the astronaut bear thoughtfully.

LEON:  
[Jim.]

ABED:  
 _[Jim! Very good. And in his travels through this solar system, has Jim ever encountered blorgons?]_

LEON (confused):  
What’s a blorgon?

ABED:  
 _[A blorgon is an evil alien robot, the enemy of all galaxy explorers. It would be very bad if they were able to hide out on this planet without being found.]_

LEON:  
[What do they look like?]

ABED:  
 _[Hard to say, until we find one. Would you like to help me search?]_

LEON:  
[Yes!]

ABED:  
Splendid!  
(He looks around furtively.)  
[We have to be careful, in case the blorgons are in disguise.]

Leon nods vigorously. They both stand and begin to wander the yard, standing very straight with their hands behind their backs. Leon tugs on Abed’s sleeve; ABED’S POV looking down at him. He puts the astronaut bear in the crook of his elbow and holds up a rock. Abed takes it.

LEON:  
[Jim says this is a blorgon detector.]

ABED:  
[Excellent! How does it work?]

LEON:  
[It gets hot when there’s a blorgon around.]

ABED (as himself):  
Cool. Trade you.

Leon gives him the astronaut bear for safekeeping and holds the rock in both camps. Christine and the two caseworkers are standing by the door; they look up expectantly as Abed and Leon approach. Abed glances at Leon, who shakes his head.

LEON:  
 _[Cold.]_

Abed doffs an imaginary cap and they wander away. REACTION SHOT of the three women looking confused.

TROY:  
...And then it goes like this, right?

Troy does a ridiculous dance move designed to be embarrassing, and Rickie laughs hysterically.

RICKIE:  
No!

TROY:  
But I’m pretty sure--

RICKIE:  
That is _not_ how it goes!

TROY:  
I don’t know, man, I think it’s better like that.

Leon holds out the rock. He looks up at Abed, eyes wide.

LEON:  
[Hot!]

He steps closer and holds the rock out to Rickie, who wrinkles his nose in confusion.

RICKIE:  
[What are you doing?]

LEON:  
He’s a blorgon! Get him!

He tackles his brother and they start chasing each other around the yard, shrieking with delight. Troy puts his hands on his hips.

TROY:  
Dude! You were a blorgon this whole time and you never told me? Not cool!

BOOM OUT.

EXT. FOSTER HOME, EARLY EVENING

Rickie and Leon are calling goodbye and waving through the screen door as Troy and Abed walk down the path, waving back. They get into the car. They’re both practically humming with excitement, trying not to smile too wide, staring straight ahead. Finally Troy looks at Abed and beams. Abed nods.

ABED:  
Yeah.

TROY:  
Yeah.

He puts the car in drive. FADE OUT.

EXT. FOSTER HOME, DAYTIME

The car pulls up to the sidewalk. This time, neither of them hesitate; they get out of the car right away. LONG SHOT of the door to the house opening. Rickie and Leon hurry out and down the steps and wait precisely at the edge of the porch, standing tall, each carrying an overstuffed backpack and a child’s rolling suitcase. Leon is clutching his astronaut teddy bear and has a Mickey Mouse bandage on one knee. The head of Rickie’s alien is poking out of his backpack. Offscreen, the other children offer a chorus of goodbyes. Christine comes out and stands behind them.

TROY:  
Hey, guys! _[Ready to go?]_

Abed looks delighted and nauseous at the same time.

ABED:  
[We’re excited you’re coming home with us. Your rooms are ready.]

LEON (shyly):  
[I’m excited too.]

RICKIE:  
What are we supposed to call you?

TROY:  
Well, we hope eventually you’re okay with calling us your dads. But we know we kind of just met, so until then I guess you could call us Troy and Abed, or whatever you want, or you could just say ‘hey you’ until we figure it out.

RICKIE (impatiently):  
But there’s two of you. So won’t it get confusing if we call both of you ‘Dad’?

TROY:  
Oh, yeah. Well, I guess you could call us Dad and Daddy, or Daddy T and Daddy A--ooh, or Daddy T-Bone, that used to be my nickname, or Papa, or Pops if you want to go old school, or Father if you want to get really serious--

ABED:  
[ _Or Baba, which means Dad in Arabic. That’s what I call my dad sometimes, when we’re talking in Arabic, because switching to English for one word sounds weird--_ ]  
(to Troy)  
Oh, this is going to be hard. I talk really fast. I need to either slow down or get way better at ASL.

TROY:  
Practice makes perfect, right?  
(to Christine)  
So… is there anything else we need to do, or…?

CHRISTINE (smiling):  
Nope. Approval’s gone through, paperwork’s all signed… Miranda and Lauren are going to do a few more home visits before things are finalized in six months, but for now you’re good to go.

TROY:  
Awesome. Awesome. So who wants ice cream?

ABED:  
Yes.

RICKIE & LEON:  
Me! Me me!

TROY:  
All right, let’s do it!

CHRISTINE:  
Oh, wait, before you go--let me just get a picture.

In reality, this means a few minutes for Christine to figure out her digital camera and then take some photos on Abed’s phone, but for script purposes it would be a polaroid. The perfect first picture of a perfect family, dissolving into a montage with a Toy Story-esque soundtrack.

MONTAGE

  * INT. TROY AND ABED’S CAR: Everybody has ice cream.



INT. TROBED APARTMENT:

  * The boys tentatively enter the front hallway, then gleefully explore the two bedrooms--one for each of them, both equipped with bunk beds, for optimal privacy and fun--and the Dreamatorium Mach 3.
  * The kitchen: Troy is tossing a pizza dough and Rickie is trying in vain to imitate him. Abed points out small bowls with different toppings to Leon, who shrugs. His gaze wanders over to a shelf on which a box of dry noodles can be seen. Abed raises an eyebrow. CUT to Leon happily dropping a stick of butter into a large pot of cooked spaghetti, which Abed stirs.
  * The living room: All four are sitting on pillows on the floor in a modest but elegant blanket fort, eating pizza and buttered noodles. Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse is playing on the TV. Troy leans back against Abed’s chest, and Abed smiles.



FADE TO BLACK

TO BE CONTINUED...


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to make it clear in the first chapter--I'm a beginner ASL student, and consulted with some more advanced/fluent signers on some points in this fic, but am far from fluent myself. ASL features more prominently in this chapter than the last, so hopefully I haven't made any fatal errors. (I also had to look up the Arabic in this chapter, and I swear, I checked six different websites and all of them had completely different texts so... yeah.) The school described in this chapter is vaguely modeled on the Marlton School, which is a real K-12 school in Los Angeles for Deaf children and their hearing siblings.

INT. TROBED APARTMENT/THEIR BEDROOM

Unfortunately, the next scene can’t open with an alarm clock going off, because Troy is a light sleeper and Abed doesn’t use one anymore. It has to begin simply with his eyes opening, and then with him rolling out of bed and grabbing his phone to disable his backup alarm.

TROY (complaining):  
Mmf.

He had had one arm wrapped around Abed’s waist. His hand searches for him in the sheets. Abed puts a pillow in his arm and Troy settles.

MONTAGE:

  * CLOSE SHOT of Abed pulling a t-shirt over his head
  * PROFILE SHOT, non-centered, of his back as he goes for a run on the first-floor gym
  * CLOSE SHOT of the sink as he brushes his teeth
  * FULL SHOT of the shower curtain as he showers
  * CLOSE SHOT of his bare feet as he steps onto a red and white prayer rug that faintly resembles the X7 Dimensionizer (this is 100% unintentional and 100% the reason he bought it)



End montage. PROFILE SHOT of Abed taking a deep breath. HIS POV: Sunlight streams in through the window. There are three small stickers, shaped like arrows, on the window. One, on the righthand side and pointing diagonally, is labelled Mecca. Another, on the lefthand side pointing straight, is hand-labelled Greendale. The last, at the very top of the window and pointing straight up, is labelled Kayaclasch (home planet of the Inspector). Abed smiles to himself. He closes his eyes and lifts his hands.

ABED:  
Allahu Akbar.  
(He crosses his arms over his chest.)  
Subhana Kal-lah hum-ma wabi hamdika wata-bara kasmuka wata’ala jad-duka wala ilaha ghyruka.

RICKIE (offscreen):  
What are you doing?

ABED’S POV as he looks over his shoulder to find Rickie, still in his pajamas, kicking his heels against the couch.

ABED:  
You’re up early.

RICKIE:  
There was a bird outside my window. It was really loud. What are you doing?

ABED:  
I’m praying.

RICKIE:  
Oh.  
(Beat)  
What for?

ABED:  
What do you mean?

RICKIE:  
What are you praying for? My friend Allison always says she’s praying for her mama to get out of jail, and my friend Benny only prays when he breaks stuff cuz he doesn’t want to get in trouble. But Miss Christine is always saying we should pray for world peace.

ABED:  
Muslims don’t usually pray that way. It’s more about saying “thank you” than “please.” And for some people, like me, it’s more about relaxing, like yoga or meditation. That’s why my therapist suggested it

Pause as Rickie considers this. Abed turns back to the window and lifts his hands to start over.

ABED:  
Allahu Ak--

RICKIE:  
What d’you have a therapist for? Aren’t those for crazy people?

ABED:  
Not really. Didn’t you and Leon talk to therapists sometimes, when you were at Miss Christine’s house?

RICKIE:  
Yeah… but Benny said that was just so they could make sure we weren’t crazy.

ABED:  
Well, he’s wrong.

RICKIE (shrugging):  
Benny’s pretty dumb.

ABED (pointing to his temple):  
Therapists study how people’s brains work. So if you go to one and say something like “this is my first time living somewhere besides Colorado and I’m worried about possible hallucinations,” a therapist can say something like “I bet you could trick your brain into being more relaxed if you do peaceful things you used to do in Colorado, like when your dad used to make you pray before school.” That’s it. You don’t need to be crazy.

RICKIE:  
Oh.

Abed faces the window again. He takes a deep breath and holds up his hands.

ABED:  
Allahu--

RICKIE:  
But does it have to be so _early_?

ABED:  
Actually, I’m about an hour late. I figure better late than never, in case God gives partial credit--call it the Jeff Winger school of prayer.

RICKIE:  
Who’s Jeff Winger?

ABED:  
He’s a friend of ours. Good friend, bad student. Please don’t look up to him as an unlikely white role model.

He turns around again. Before he can even close his eyes:

RICKIE:  
How do you _trick_ your brain?

ABED:  
Okay, let’s try this.  
(He takes a Batman-patterned blanket out of the fort supply chest and folds it on the floor beside his prayer mat.)  
You stand here.

RICKIE (suspiciously):  
Why?

ABED:  
We’re going to bond. C’mon.

Rickie hops off the couch and stands in the middle of the blanket. He wiggles his toes.

ABED:  
Okay, now take a deep breath.

Rickie inhales and inflates his chest dramatically.

ABED:  
Good.  
(Pause)  
You can blow it out.

He exhales explosively.

ABED:  
Try again, except don’t hold your breath this time. Doesn’t that feel relaxing?

RICKIE:  
No.

ABED:  
Well, it will in a minute. I’m going to stand here and do my prayers, and you’re going to stand there and take deep breaths, or you could say ‘om’ which is what Indians and hipsters say, or you could make up your own language if you want, I won’t stop you. And when we’re done, we’ll both be relaxed and we’ll be more bonded because we did an activity together. Cool?

RICKIE (shrugging):  
Okay.

ABED:  
Cool cool cool.

They both faces the window. A bird flutters down to settle on the windowsill.

RICKIE (whispering):  
That’s the bird that woke me up.

ABED (rapidly):  
Allahu-Akbar-subhana-Kal-lah-hum-ma-wabi-hamdika-wata-bara-kasmuka-wata’ala-jad-duka-wala-ilaha-ghyruka.

He looks at Rickie out of the corner of his eye. Rickie is breathing quietly beside him, eyes closed and lips pursed in a very Arnold Jackson/Michelle Tanner I’m-a-kid-but-smarter-and-funnier-than-all-the-adults kind of way. He shows no sign of interrupting. CUT to a close-up of Abed’s face, eyes closed, a few minutes later, murmuring in Arabic.

TROY (whispering, offscreen):  
Hey, buddy, let’s give Abed some alone time, okay?

RICKIE (whispering, offscreen):  
We’re _bonding._  
(Beat)  
It’s boring.

Abed’s lips quirk in a smile.

ABED (slightly louder):  
...innaka hameedum majeed.

He opens his eyes and turns to look at Rickie. They’re kneeling on the floor.

ABED:  
Now you say asalam aleikum to me.

RICKIE:  
Asalam aleikum.

ABED (giving him a high-five):  
And I say wa-aleikum salam to you. And we’re done.

RICKIE:  
I’m hungry.

ABED:  
Me too.

TROY (calling from the kitchen):  
Way ahead of you. Rickie, how do you like your waffles?

RICKIE:  
I like lots and lots and lots of syrup.

TROY:  
Well good, because we have lots and lots and lots of syrup and I don’t know what we’re going to do with it all.

SHOT of Abed, smiling to himself as he puts the blanket away. He goes to the boys’ bedroom and pokes his head in. Leon is lying down on the top bunk, facing the other way. Abed touches his shoulder and Leon sits up and turns around.

ABED:  
[Good morning.]

LEON:  
[Good morning.]

ABED:  
[Do you know a sign for w-a-f-f-l-e-s?]

Leon smiles halfheartedly and demonstrates.

ABED:  
[Cool. Do you want waffles?]

Leon nods. Abed frowns.

ABED:  
[You look sad.]

Leon shrugs.

ABED:  
[Do you miss your friends?]

LEON:  
[A little.]

ABED:  
[I miss my friends sometimes, too. Do you know what helps? We text, take photos, and make plans to visit. And being with Troy helps, too, because he’s funny and gives good hugs. Hugs are important.]  
(He notices that the astronaut bear has fallen on the floor, picks it up, and hands it to Leon.)  
Here.

Leon smiles and hugs the bear tightly.

LEON:  
[Better.]

ABED:  
[Ready for breakfast?]

LEON:  
[Yeah.]

Leon climbs down the ladder. He takes his hearing aids from a case on the bedside table and puts them in, then takes Abed’s hand. They enter the kitchen. Troy looks up.

TROY:  
 _[Good morning!]_  
(Pause)  
Is there a sign for waffles?

Leon laughs.

ABED:  
That’s what I said. It’s this.

He demonstrates. Leon and Rickie sit at the table, watching Troy cook, as Abed sets the table. Troy carries a stack of waffles over.

TROY:  
[ _Okay, so today is Saturday. We have some Saturday rules, okay? Number 1_ ]. Breakfast _must_ be awesome. Pancakes, waffles, crepes, huevos rancheros--which I learned how to make from what I’m pretty sure was the oldest grandmother in Mexico--whatever. It’s just gotta be awesome. This is not a day for cereal. Unless that cereal is made fancy by being mixed with another cereal or made with chocolate milk.

ABED:  
 _[Rule number 2--Saturday mornings are for cartoons and cartoons only. No live-action, no live-action mixed with cartoons, 3D animation okay but priority given to 2D animation, to hearken back to a simpler time.]_

TROY:  
 _[Rule number 3. Saturdays are pajama days.]_ If you start to feel kind of grody, you may switch from sleepy time pajamas to daytime pajamas, or get dressed later in the afternoon, but respect the intent of the day, folks. Comfy clothes only, no collars, no ties, no jeans. _[Got it?]_

LEON & RICKIE:  
[Got it!]

RICKIE:  
What are we gonna watch?

ABED:  
Anything you want.

LEON:  
[I want to watch an alien movie!]

RICKIE:  
[Big surprise.]

TROY:  
I saw ‘alien’ and ‘movie’, I know those.

ABED:  
Lilo & Stitch. It has aliens, it’s a cartoon, _and_ it’s on theme.

TROY:  
Aw, man. Guess we’re going to get the “it’s okay for boys to cry” lesson out of the way early.

ABED:  
Ohana means family. Family means no one gets left behind...

TROY:  
Or forgotten.  
(Sucking in a breath)  
Yeah, that did it.

TWO SHOT of Rickie and Leon, vaguely amused. They glance at each other, and burst into giggles. DISSOLVE to:

EXT. PARK, A FEW DAYS LATER

Establishing shot of the park on a bright, sunny day, full of happy, delighted families. CUT to Abed and Leon hiding behind a tree, dressed in Western clothes, equipped with neon water guns and ammo belts of water balloons. The soundtrack is dramatic and suspenseful.

LEON:  
[Do you see them?]

Abed peers around the tree. HIS POV as he scans the park, then ZOOM on a solid bench. Troy and Rickie’s feet are visible underneath it. Abed exhales forcefully. He turns around and kneels.

ABED (quietly):  
 _[By the bench, next to the water fountain. They won’t be moving any time soon, not with a supply of ammo nearby, and there’s no good point of attack. Our only hope…]_  
(Pause for dramatic effect)  
 _[I’m going to draw them out. As soon as I hit the ground, you need to bring the big guns.]_

LEON:  
[But you’ll die!]

ABED (putting his hands on Leon’s shoulders):  
Listen, kid. One of us has to make it out of this town alive. I’ve had my fair share of time out on the open road, gotten in plenty of close scrapes… now it’s your turn.

He takes off his enormous SuperSoaker and holds it out.

ABED:  
Here, take this. Go chase that horizon.  
(Pause. As himself:)  
Is this too big for you?

LEON:  
I think so.

There is some awkward fumbling for a moment, until finally they manage to get the water gun in a position where Leon can hold it. Abed takes his smaller water pistols instead. Leon looks up at him and solemnly tips his hat.

ABED:  
[Go get ’em, partner.]

The music swells to a dramatic crescendo as Abed flings himself around the tree and begins running, in slow motion, water guns akimbo. SHOT of his feet, also in slow mo, and then COWBOY SHOT of Rickie and Troy rising from behind the bench. CLOSEUP on the determined expression on Abed’s face. He looks over his shoulder as he runs--HIS POV of Leon standing alone, bravely, by the tree. Abed faces forward again. ANGLED SHOT of Rickie and Troy, stern and ready to take him out. CLOSEUP on Abed’s finger tightening on the trigger.

Then CLOSEUP of Abed’s face as he has an epiphany. He stops running abruptly, and looks up in the sky at nothing. His hand twitches and his lips move soundlessly as he figures something out. SHOT of Troy and Rickie glancing at each other, confused.

TROY:  
Abed? What are you doing?

ABED:  
Just a sec.  
(Beat)  
It’s not about Jane. It’s about _Miles_. Troy! Hey, Troy, I think I just fixed Voyage of the Star Ship Legacy--

He walks towards the bench, fast and excited.

TROY:  
Seriously? You’re pitching? I thought you were taking a break.

ABED:  
Yeah, but I just figured out how to fix--

A water balloon hits him in the face, knocking off his hat. Water drips down his face.

ABED:  
...Okay, yeah, probably should have seen that coming.

Rickie smirks. He blows on one of his remaining water balloons and tries to spin it like a pistol as he goes to put it on his belt. He drops it and the balloon breaks on the concrete, splashing his legs.

RICKIE:  
Aw, _man_.

ABED:  
Oops.

TROY:  
And now we’re down to two. Seriously, though, you should know better than to pitch in the middle of a game.

ABED:  
But I _fixed_ it.

TROY:  
Yeah, well, maybe just make one movie at a time, huh?

He leans up for a kiss--the kind of smushy kiss that turns into a couple more without thinking about it. Rickie crosses his arms.

RICKIE:  
Is this a kissing game?

ABED (finger gun):  
Princess Bride reference. Nice.

TROY:  
Yeah, good one.  
(He hefts his gun. Calling across the field:)  
All right, Kid the Kid. Just you and me now. This park ain’t big enough for two.

He steps out from behind the bench. CLOSEUPS on Rickie and Abed, watching, and then LONG SHOT of the tree. Leon starts running towards the bench, hollering his little heart out, the giant Super Soaker bouncing on a strap on his back. For a moment, all is slow-mo and dramatic. Then Leon reaches the bench, striking a dramatic stance, and Rickie notices a problem.

RICKIE:  
 _[Leon, you gotta pull the gun out or he’s gonna shoot you.]_

LEON (breathing hard):  
[I know. It’s hot, and this thing is heavy.]

He holds both arms out. Abed laughs, Rickie facepalms, and Troy looks over his shoulder at Abed with a grin. He shrugs. Dramatic music resumes as he sprays Leon with water. Abed looks down at Rickie.

ABED:  
He’s got a point. Losing is the best part of a water balloon fight.

RICKIE:  
Yeah, I guess.

Beat. Abed takes a water balloon off his belt and pops it over Rickie’s head. Rickie snorts. CUT to a LONG SHOT of the four of them from behind as they walk out of the park, into the sunset. The boys chatter, with the occasional response from Troy and Abed (indistinct). FADE OUT.

INT. TROBED APARTMENT, NIGHT

Abed, dressed in pajamas, is sitting on the couch. Troy joins him, setting two glasses of wine on the coffee table.

TROY:  
I’m worried about Britta. She keeps sharing wine mom memes on Facebook, which would be old Britta’s worst nightmare.

ABED:  
Yeah, it’s a real genre shift. Concerning.

TROY:  
And also, it makes me want wine a lot.  
(He swirls his glass and waggles his eyebrows.)  
This particular vintage was made in… a year… that LeVar Burton recommended. I bought it when we were sailing off the coast of… a region in Spain, and it costs more than an entire year’s tuition at Greendale.

ABED:  
Nice.  
(He takes a sip.)  
It’s good. I think. I don’t know anything about wine.

TROY:  
Me neither.  
(He sets his glass down and props his head on his elbow.)  
You know what we haven’t done in a while?

ABED:  
Make out.

TROY:  
Yeah.

They reach for each other at the same time, and a fervent makeout session on the couch ensues. Offscreen, there is the sound of a door opening, and Troy scrambles away.

TROY:  
Heyyyyyy buddy!

Abed looks over his shoulder. Leon, also in pajamas, waves and yawns.

LEON:  
[Can’t sleep.]

TROY:  
Aww. _[Do you want some warm milk? Or water?]_

Leon shakes his head. He rubs at his eyes and climbs up on the sofa, depositing himself in Abed’s lap. Abed’s eyes go wide and he turns to face Troy, who has an I’m-trying-not-to-cry expression.

TROY (mouthing):  
 _Cute_.

ABED:  
Yeah, maybe the cutest thing that’s ever happened to me. Although, you know, it’s tough to say, being friends with Annie. But this is definitely up there.

Leon giggles. Abed looks at him.

ABED:  
What are you laughing at?

Leon leans back against his chest. Troy sits forward.

TROY:  
[ _Hey--what’s funny?]_

LEON:  
Bzz bzz bzz.

ABED:  
Oh, I get it. Am I buzzing? Does it tickle?

He tickles Leon’s side and he squirms and giggles. After a minute, Abed stops.

ABED:  
This isn’t a good time for a tickle fight, as much as I hate to admit it. If we get into a real tickle fight, he’ll never get to sleep.

TROY (pained):  
Yeah. But it’s _so cute._

ABED:  
Yeah.

He falls silent. Leon twists his head to look up at him, curious, and Abed puts his arms around him. He starts humming Daybreak, then pauses. He looks at Troy and tilts his head.

ABED:  
Are you thinking what I’m thinking?

TROY:  
Always.

They kiss their fingers and lift them to the sky, and Troy swings around so he is sitting on the coffee table, facing Leon.

TROY: _  
_[Ready for a song?]

LEON:  
[Yes!]

Abed squeezes him a little tighter.

ABED:  
Somewhere out there, beneath the pale moonlight... someone’s thinking of me, and loving me tonight…

Troy signs in unison, smiling broadly, although he hesitates at the word pale and skips it. Otherwise, he is confident. The signing has lots of big, swooping gestures that fit the music perfectly. REACTION SHOT of Abed, who is somehow more in love with him than he was five minutes ago.

TROY:  
 _[Somewhere out there, someone’s saying a prayer… That we’ll find one another in that big somewhere out there. And even though I know how very far apart we are, it helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star.]_

ABED: _  
_And when the night wind starts to sing a lonesome lullaby, it helps to think we're sleeping  
underneath that same big sky!

TROY & ABED:  
 _[Somewhere out there, if love can see us through, then we’ll be together--somewhere out there, out where dreams come true…]_

Leon yawns and shakes his hands in Deaf applause. He snuggles back against Abed’s chest.

LEON (mumbling):  
Sleepy.

TROY:  
Yeah, it’s way past your bedtime, little man.  
(to Abed:)  
You got him?

ABED:  
Yeah.

He stands, carrying Leon, and turns towards the bedrooms.

LEON:  
’Night, Daddy.

REACTION SHOT of Troy, making an I-just-met-LeVar-Burton face.

TROY (high-pitched):  
G’night.

Abed gives him a thumbs up. He brings Leon into the bedroom and lifts him into the top bunk.

ABED:  
[Good night.]

LEON:  
[Good night ___.]

He makes a sign with his hand in the letter B shape, tapping his forehead. Abed looks confused--the closest sign he knows is the word “bastard,” and he’s hoping that’s wrong.

ABED  
[I don’t know that sign.]

Leon smiles, pleased with himself. He spreads his fingers wide in the 5 hand shape and taps his forehead.

LEON:  
Daddy.  
(he makes the B hand shape)  
B.  
(taps his forehead)  
Baba.

REACTION SHOT of Abed. He doesn’t know what to say for a minute.

ABED:  
[Thank you.]

Leon closes his eyes and burrows down into the pillows. Abed exits, leaving the door cracked. A sliver of light falls on Rickie’s face. SLOW ZOOM: he looks just a little bit sad, although he doesn’t know why. Abed doesn’t notice this, but it’s important to have these little moments of dramatic irony so that the story feels more complete by the end. FADE TO BLACK.

INT. TROBED APARTMENT, A FEW WEEKS LATER

Abed knocks on the bedroom door.

RICKIE (offscreen):  
Come in.

Abed enters. Rickie is sitting up on the bottom bunk, fiddling with a Lego dinosaur and his stuffed alien. He’s still in his pajamas.

ABED:  
Good morning.

RICKIE:  
Morning.

ABED:  
You didn’t get up to pray this morning.

RICKIE:  
I was tired.

ABED:  
Excited for the first day of school?

Rickie shrugs. He glances up at Abed, then reconsiders. He crosses his arms.

RICKIE:  
I don’t want to go to a new school. I liked my old one.

ABED:  
I know, but there are rules to this kind of thing. Your old school was a public school, so you have to live in a certain place to go there, and we don’t live in the right neighborhood.

RICKIE:  
Why can’t we move?

ABED:  
This is a good school. You’ll like it.

RICKIE:  
I’ll be the _only_ kid there who isn’t Deaf.

ABED:  
That’s not true--there are other hearing kids who are there because they want to be in the same school as their siblings. You’ll make friends. Besides, you want to be in the same school as Leon, right?

RICKIE:  
I guess.

ABED:  
Good. You should get dressed. Troy’s making M&M pancakes for breakfast, and if you get ready fast, we have time to watch an episode of Inspector Spacetime before school.

RICKIE:  
That’s cool.

Somewhat cheered, he gets up and sets the toys aside. Abed exits. Almost immediately, the door to the second bedroom flies open and Leon crashes into his shins, already dressed in a blue Star Trek uniform t-shirt, wearing his backpack.

ABED (doing a voice):  
Whoa! What do we have here, eh?  
(He picks Leon up.)  
[Excited?]

LEON:  
Yeah.

ABED:  
[Scared?]

LEON:  
Nuh-uh.

Abed raises an eyebrow.

LEON:  
[A little bit.]

ABED:  
[I won’t tell.] Remember, Daddy’s going to be all alone when he picks you up, but I’ll be home a little later, okay? Do you have the updated blorgon detector so you’ll know it’s him?

Leon pulls a piece of baked clay out of his pocket.

ABED:  
Nice. You’ll have a great day.

They high five and go into the kitchen. Troy is carefully dropping M&Ms into a pan, but he looks up with a smile.

TROY:  
Hey! [Good morning.]

LEON:  
Morning.

TROY:  
[I’ve got a question for you--what color M&M tastes the best?]

Abed puts Leon down in one of the chairs and starts to set the table.

LEON:  
[They all taste the same!]

TROY:  
Not true, not true. The best-tasting M&M is clearly red--

ABED (simultaneously):  
Yellow.

TROY:  
Okay, we are not having this argument again.

LONG SHOT of Rickie leaving the bedroom, wearing a Starfleet Academy t-shirt.

ABED:  
Rickie! What color M&M tastes the best?

RICKIE:  
Blue.

Leon laughs. Troy throws his hands in the air. They all chatter idly (indistinct) as Troy finishes making the pancakes and Abed pours glasses of milk. Finally they all sit down and eat. The mood is cheerful.

RICKIE:  
At our old school sometimes we had dance class for gym. Do you think they’ll do that at the new school? Cuz most of the kids won’t even be able to hear the music.

LEON:  
Just because I can’t hear all the words doesn’t mean I can’t hear music, [dummy].

TROY:  
Hey, hey. Watch it--it still counts as a no-no word even if it’s in sign.

LEON:  
[Sorry.]

RICKIE:  
[I know _you_ can hear it, but other kids won’t.] Unless it’s really, really, really loud, I guess.

TROY:  
I don’t know. If they don’t, we’ll find you some kind of after school class--not that you _need_ one, obviously, because your dancing is already just that good. But if you need some funk in your life--we gotchu.

LEON:  
[Nobody says ‘funk’.]

ABED:  
 _[You’re not allowed to be too cool for us until you’re teenagers.]_

RICKIE:  
[Too late.]

He and Leon do a coordinated dance move, a variation of their Old Town Road dance from their first scene. It is, indeed, very cool.

TROY:  
Damn.

Leon purses his lips.

LEON:  
[No-no.]

Abed nods in mock-serious agreement. Troy rolls his eyes, fondly. DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. SCHOOL

BOOM DOWN onto a brick school building swarming with parents, students, crossing guards, buses, etc. Troy, Abed, and the boys stand on the sidewalk across the road.

TROY:  
 _[Okay, you made all your wishes, right?]_

LEON:  
[Right.]

ABED:  
 _[And you’ve got lunches and snacks, and lunch money just in case the school lunch is better--]_

RICKIE:  
Yup.

ABED:  
What about shoes? [Are your shoes tied?]

Leon holds up his foot and wiggles it to indicate that yes, his shoes are tied.

TROY:  
Pencils! _[Do you have pens and pencils?]_ Because those can disappear like that, you never know when there’s a monkey around--

RICKIE:  
Dad! We have like five million pencils _each_ . Can we go already? It’s just _school._

TROY:  
Okay.  
(He takes a deep breath.)  
[Have a good time. Learn stuff. Make friends. I’ll be here to pick you up at the end of the day, okay?]

They both nod.

LEON (grinning):  
[School: [ the final frontier ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XoUzffk-KwM).]

Abed smiles.

ABED:  
[To boldly learn what no man has learned before.]

Rickie rolls his eyes and hefts his backpack.

RICKIE:  
[Nerds.]

He takes Leon’s hand and they turn to leave.

TROY:  
Wait, wait, wait! Photo!

Abed takes out his phone and takes several photos from different angles.

RICKIE:  
Okay, bye!

He starts to pull Leon towards the crosswalk.

LEON:  
[Bye, Dad! Bye, Baba!]

He turns and they walk away. Troy rests his head on Abed’s shoulder.

ABED:  
This would be a lot more fun with a heartwarming soundtrack.

TROY:  
Yeah. Now it’s, like, all the nerves of a first day of school but there’s nothing we can do about it and we don’t even know how it’s going for _hours_.

ABED:  
Mm.

Pause. Abed holds up his phone, showing Troy the photo.

TROY:  
You should send that to the group chat. We might actually break Annie and Shirley.

ABED:  
Yeah.

They watch the school for another minute. FULL SHOT of Rickie and Leon entering the building.

TROY:  
All right. You have to go make a movie.

ABED:  
You have to go make a room cold.

TROY:  
Let’s do this.

They do their handshake and get in the car. FADE OUT.

EXT: SCHOOL, A FEW WEEKS LATER

OPEN on Abed, getting out of his car. He walks up to the entrance, past the last few parents leaving with their kids, to where Troy is waiting.

ABED:  
Hey. Where’s Leon?

TROY:  
He’s at home. Cara came over for a little bit.

ABED:  
Cara. That’s the one from your dance class who looks like a blonde Anna Kendrick?

TROY:  
Yeah.

ABED:  
I’m skeptical. She always smiles like she’s planning to run as soon as you look away.

TROY:  
I know, I know, you don’t trust Anna Kendrick. But Cara has three younger siblings and like ten younger cousins and a Master’s degree in early childhood education. I think she’ll be okay.

Abed nods. They enter the building.

ABED:  
Is it just me, or is it too early for this plotline?

TROY:  
What do you mean?

Pause.

ABED:  
Unscheduled teacher’s conferences in early elementary school. They’re… not usually good.

Troy rubs between his shoulders.

TROY:  
She said it wasn’t an emergency, she just wanted to talk.

Abed makes a high-pitched, noncommittal noise. They walk down the hall and stop in front of a numbered door.

TROY:  
I’m pretty sure it’s this one.

He knocks. The door is opened by JANE LARSON, a friendly, 30-something teacher in a cardigan and heels.

TROY:  
Miss Larson?

JANE:  
Jane, please. And you must be--?

ABED (pointing):  
Troy. Abed.

They shake hands.

JANE:  
It’s great to meet you. Please, come in.

They enter the classroom. It’s a typical elementary school classroom, full of brightly-colored storage bins and posters, including several ASL posters.

JANE:  
I had a teacher’s aide bring Rickie to the art room so we could talk.

She sits behind the desk and gestures at two not-quite-adult-size chairs in front of it. They sit. They’re both leaning forward a little bit, looking mildly nervous. Jane sits and folds her hands with a reassuring smile.

JANE:  
So. I just want to start off by saying that we’re not planning on any disciplinary action beyond today, and if this remains a one-time incident, I personally don’t see any reason why the school needs to be involved at all. If it does become a problem, we might want to talk about working with the school counselor, but that’s a different conversation.

TROY:  
Okay...

ABED:  
What is _this_ conversation?

JANE:  
Right, so.  
(She clears her throat and fiddles with a pencil.)  
So there was a little incident at recess today. Rickie was playing basketball with some of his classmates--it was HORSE, I think, or one of those other games where it’s not exactly a team, more one-on-one. He lost, apparently, and had a little outburst. Some shouting and swearing at the classmate who won--the recess monitor seems to think the classmate wasn’t being a good sport, too, but there was definitely an escalation on Rickie’s side. This was towards the beginning of the recess period, so he was given a recess detention, which was basically just a little talk with me and some quiet reading. By the end of the period, he had calmed down, and he apologized to his classmate without being prompted. So, I know from his records that Rickie was adopted out of foster care fairly recently, right?

TROY:  
Right. He and his brother have been with us for, um, three months?

ABED:  
And two weeks.

TROY:  
Yeah.

JANE:  
Yeah, so we’re definitely still in a transition period on top of the new-school transition. Has Rickie been having any problems with his temper at home?

ABED:  
No, nothing.

TROY:  
Um--  
(Glancing at Abed)  
His foster mom said there were some issues with being a little defensive around other kids… or overprotective of Leon--that’s our younger son--but I don’t think she thought it was anything serious.

JANE:  
Okay, so maybe the group social skills could use a little work. That’s good to know. Like I said--this is the first time there’s been any sort of problem, it wasn’t entirely unprovoked, it was resolved pretty quickly-- and even the language, that is something we tend to see with kids who’ve been in the system. You know, lots of exposure to older kids, maybe not from the best environments. Worth a talk, definitely, but nothing to panic about. Is he seeing a counselor?

ABED:  
No.  
(He shifts in his seat uncomfortably.)  
We haven’t really seen a need for that.

JANE:  
Okay. Okay, that’s good--if you do decide he needs a little more support, we have plenty of options I’d be happy to go through. For now, I just wanted to make sure you were aware in case this was an ongoing issue.

TROY:  
Yeah, thank you. This isn’t, like, going on his permanent record or anything, is it?

JANE:  
Um--that’s not a thing.

TROY:  
Really?  
(In an undertone, to Abed:)  
I think _everything_ my mom told me about elementary school was a lie.

They all stand and exit the classroom. Jane leads them down the hall and opens the door to an art room, where Rickie and an older AIDE are sitting at a table. Rickie is coloring with a marker. He looks up at their entrance, more subdued than usual.

TROY:  
Hey, buddy.

RICKIE:  
Hi.

ABED:  
Are you ready to go?

Rickie shrugs. He puts the marker back in the box and stands, picking up his backpack.

ABED:  
Don’t forget this.

He picks up the drawing. CLOSE UP: Troy, Leon, Rickie, and a green dog standing in front of their apartment building. Slightly off to the side is Abed, holding a camera.

ABED:  
That’s pretty good. Except we don’t have a dog.

RICKIE:  
That’s not a dog, that’s Slagathor.

ABED:  
Ah. Nice.

JANE:  
What?

TROY:  
Slagathor’s his alien. Okay, we’re going to head out--it was nice meeting you.

JANE:  
You too. Bye Rickie--I’ll see you tomorrow.

RICKIE:  
Bye.

CUT to:

INT. CAR

Establishing shot of the car driving down the streets of LA. MEDIUM SHOT of Rickie staring out the window, then Abed and Troy in the front seat. Troy looks at Abed, then clears his throat.

TROY:  
So, Miss Larson told us what happened at recess.

RICKIE (mumbling):  
Am I in trouble?

TROY:  
No, we just want to talk about it. She said you were playing basketball?

RICKIE:  
Yeah.

TROY:  
What happened?

RICKIE:  
I lost.

ABED:  
And after that?

RICKIE:  
I got mad.

ABED (genuinely curious):  
Why?

RICKIE:  
Just did.

ABED:  
Learning to recognize the source of your feelings is an important step in emotional development. Why do you think you got mad?

RICKIE:  
I just _did_. I don’t know!

Pause. Abed looks at Rickie in the rearview mirror, then out at the passing scenery.

ABED (casually):  
You know, winning isn’t really important. The main characters lose in Cool Runnings, A League of Their Own, and Rocky, but they’re okay with it because they grew as people and made new friends.

Troy clears his throat. Abed looks at him.

TROY (in an undertone):  
Give him a minute.

Abed nods. Pause. Troy glances at Rickie in the rearview mirror.

TROY:  
Hey, Abed, remember that time you beat me at basketball, darts, arm-wrestling, and racing all in one day?

ABED:  
Yup.

RICKIE:  
No way!

TROY:  
Mm-hm. I know--he’s a skinny dude, but he’s stronger than he looks. I was the best athlete in my high school, so losing like that really sucked.

RICKIE:  
Did you get mad?

TROY:  
Yeah, a little.

RICKIE:  
Only a little?

Troy looks in the mirror again. Rickie is facing the front and leaning forward. Abed watches intently, as if this were a particular tense and pivotal movie scene.

TROY:  
When I was younger, I thought being good at sports would make people like me, so it was a really, really big deal if I won or lost. It got to be such a big deal that playing wasn’t even fun because I was so worried about losing. When I got older, I realized people liked me for other things, too--for being nice or funny or whatever. I still _wanted_ to win at sports, but it wasn’t the end of the world when I lost. I could still have fun either way.

Rickie sits back, looking slightly cheered.

RICKIE:  
I said I was sorry, you know.

TROY:  
Good. Did you mean it?

RICKIE:  
Yeah.

TROY:  
Good.

REACTION SHOT of Abed, slightly perturbed. DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING

Rickie exits the car and rushes towards the entrance. Troy and Abed also exit, but Abed lingers by the car.

TROY:  
What’s wrong?

ABED:  
Nothing. You were a lot better at that than I was.

TROY:  
Former jock psychic powers.

ABED:  
I guess.

Troy kisses him on the cheek and laces their fingers together, walking towards the entrance.

TROY:  
Hey, don’t even worry about it, okay? It’s just one of those things that gets better with practice, I bet.

ABED:  
Okay.

TROY:  
But maybe don’t quote directly from all those parenting books next time.

ABED:  
Got it.  
(He looks down at Rickie’s drawing again.)  
Should we get a dog? It’s very Leave It to Beaver.

TROY:  
Only if it’s an alien.

ABED:  
Very Lilo & Stitch.

TROY:  
Exactly. We have to stick to genre, babe.

Abed grins and kisses him on the cheek. BOOM OUT as they go inside.

TO BE CONTINUED… AGAIN...


	3. Chapter 3

INT. FANCY BAR, EVENING

ESTABLISHING SHOT of the front entrance. CUT to the interior, where Abed and TIMOTHY OLYPHANT are sitting at a private table, with a small assortment of unimportant PEOPLE around them, congratulating each other on signing the deal.

TIMOTHY OLYPHANT:  
I’m glad we got a chance to meet in person before things get going. I’m really looking forward to working with you, Abed.

ABED:  
Thanks. I’m looking forward to working with you, too, Timothy Olyphant.

TIMOTHY OLYPHANT:  
Now, about my character--I was wondering if you might be able to put me in touch with some of the folks doing costuming. I’ve got some ideas.

ABED (warily):  
Such as?

TIMOTHY OLYPHANT:  
Well, I get the feeling that Jake is the kind of guy who can really fill out a hat--

ABED:  
Look, Tim, I appreciate the idea, but at some point it stops becoming a Justified homage and turns into a plagiarism lawsuit.

TIMOTHY OLYPHANT (disappointed):  
Yeah, I guess. Oh well. How about another round, huh?

Abed looks at his watch.

ABED:  
Ooh, can’t. Late for dinner.

TIMOTHY OLYPHANT:  
Hot date?

ABED:  
Yeah.

He pulls out his phone and shows off the lockscreen: Troy, beaming at the camera, with one kid tucked under each arm and a stuffed octopus on his head.

TIMOTHY OLYPHANT:  
Aw. Just the two kids?

ABED:  
Yeah.

TIMOTHY OLYPHANT:  
Smart. Keep it man-to-man--you don’t want to switch to [ zone](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fAV2ofSG5Jk).

ABED:  
… Sports reference?

TIMOTHY OLYPHANT:  
Yeah.

ABED:  
I'll get my husband to explain it to me. Good night.

He stands and waves at the other people at the table. FADE OUT. FADE IN:

INT. TROBED APARTMENT/KITCHEN

Troy, Rickie, and Leon are sitting around the table. The boys have food on their plates, and Rickie is picking at it when he thinks Troy isn’t looking. Leon, despite having been given permission to eat, is following Troy’s lead and waiting, eyes on the door. It opens and Abed enters.

ABED:  
Hey. Sorry I’m late.

TROY (smiling):  
Hey.

Abed kisses him and sits down, smiling at the kids.

ABED:  
Hi, guys. [You didn’t have to wait for me.]

TROY:  
[We wanted to.]

LEON:  
[Yeah.]

Rickie, obviously not wanting to, immediately starts to eat. A comfortably domestic dinner scene ensues.

TROY:  
How’d the meetings go?

ABED:  
Awesome. We got Timothy Olyphant.

TROY:  
Dude!

They do their handshake.

LEON:  
Who’s Timothy Elephant?

RICKIE:  
Some guy we’ve never heard of.

TROY:  
Yeah, he hasn’t really done much kid stuff. But he’s going to be in Baba’s movie, so that’s cool, right?

LEON (through a mouthful of food):  
[ _Really cool._ ]

Rickie shrugs.

TROY:  
Finish chewing, little man.

ABED:  
It’s not rude to talk with your mouth full in Deaf culture.

TROY:  
Really? Cool! Deaf rules!  
(He takes a large bite)  
[We went to the park after school.]

RICKIE:  
[Not me. I was still in school.]

LEON:  
[Daddy and me, after kindergarten. I went on the monkey bars. The floor was lava but I didn’t fall.]

ABED:  
[That’s good.]

LEON:  
[Then we played at home. Right, Rickie?]

RICKIE:  
Right.

ABED:  
[Did you survive?]

Rickie is still eating quickly and not paying attention.

ABED:  
Rick. How was the game?

RICKIE:  
Fine. I’m done--can I go play in the Dreamatorium?

He jumps out of his chair and drifts towards the hallway.

ABED:  
Ooh, good idea. I’ll finish up and come with you.

RICKIE:  
But… I wanted to go.

ABED:  
Yeah, you can go and then I’ll catch up. I’ve been meaning to get in there to work out some of the alien sequences for Voyage of the Starship Legacy--Marisol thinks the alien culture could use more development. You like playing aliens, right, so you can help me.

RICKIE:  
But…

ABED:  
Especially in the second act. I think the connection between the real-life storm and the abduction sequence could be strengthened by some exploration of why the aliens--

RICKIE:  
Shut _up_!

REACTION SHOTS: Shock all around.

TROY:  
Rickie!

RICKIE:  
I want to play by _myself_ because I don’t get to do _anything_ I want and I don’t want to have to play with a weirdo all the time! You’re weird and you never listen and you never leave me alone!

Pause. The table is very, very quiet. Leon stares hard at his plate, glancing up only when he thinks he can do so unobserved. Abed, wary and cautious, opens his mouth to speak, but is interrupted.

TROY (very serious):  
Rickie, apologize.

RICKIE:  
No! Why should I?

TROY:  
Because we don’t say things like that. Apologize, now, and then you can go play in the Dreamatorium.

RICKIE:  
No! I don’t want to!

TROY:  
Okay, then you can go sit in your room until you’ve calmed down.

RICKIE:  
But--

TROY:  
Uh-uh. We don’t get to yell at people and say mean things like that. You can play after you’ve apologized.

Rickie storms out. Offscreen, there is the sound of a door slamming. The room is still quiet. Abed, too, is looking at his plate.

ABED (quietly):  
Troy…

TROY:  
What?

Abed glances at Leon.

ABED:  
Never mind.

FADE TO BLACK. FADE IN a few minutes later. Leon puts his fork down.

LEON:  
[I’m full.]

ABED:  
[Okay. We’ll clean the table. You can go play.]

LEON:  
[Can I watch TV?]

ABED:  
[Yeah.]

All three stand. Troy starts to clear the table. Leon and Abed go to the living room, where Leon scrambles up on the couch. Abed picks up the remote and turns on Duck Tales.

ABED:  
Is this good?

LEON:  
Yeah.  
(He curls up against the arm of the couch)  
Baba, I want Jim.

ABED:  
Do you remember where you left him?

Leon shakes his head.

ABED:  
Okay, I’ll look.

He looks under the couches and in the corners, then goes into the hallway and opens the door of the Dreamatorium Mach 3. FULL SHOT of Jim, the astronaut bear. Abed picks it up and returns to the living room. He kneels and hands the bear to Leon, who squeezes it tight. Pause.

LEON:  
[Are you mad?]

ABED:  
[No.]

LEON:  
[Is Daddy mad?]

Abed hesitates, wanting to lie and knowing he shouldn’t.

ABED:  
[Not mad. Disappointed. It’s okay.]

LEON:  
[Rickie’s sorry. I know he is.]

ABED:  
[I know.]

He kisses the top of Leon’s head. Leon smiles, briefly, and snuggles into the couch again, eyes going to the TV. Abed returns to the table. There are a few plates left on the table; he picks them up and takes them into the kitchen, where Troy is getting rid of the leftovers.

TROY:  
Thanks.

He starts to wash the dishes.

ABED:  
I can do that.

TROY:  
No, it’s fine. I got it.

ABED:  
Okay.  
(He leans against the counter. Beat.)  
How long did you want Rickie to be in time out?

TROY:  
Until he apologizes.

ABED:  
He doesn’t need to apologize.

TROY:  
The thing is, he does. If he wants to be alone, that’s fine, but he can’t yell at people or call them names.

ABED:  
Okay, but I’m an adult, and it feels pretty immature to get my feelings hurt because of something a seven-year-old said when he was upset.

TROY:  
Yeah, but it’s not about you, okay? He’s still not allowed to say those things, because I don’t want him to go to school and think that it’s okay to say them to other people, and then ten years down the line he’s the one shoving people into lockers.

ABED:  
You don’t have to worry about that. He’s a good kid.

TROY:  
Yeah, well, so was I!

Pause.

ABED:  
Is that what you’re upset about? About… you being mean in high school?

TROY:  
Maybe. I guess.

ABED:  
That was a long time ago, though. We didn’t even know each other.

TROY:  
I know, and it’s not like I spend all my time thinking about it, just--yeah, it upsets me, okay? I don’t like thinking that if I had met my husband _one year earlier,_ I would have been a complete jerk to him. It’s--it’s like the Darker-than-Darkest Timeline and it makes me feel bad about who I was and…  
(Sighs.)  
Look, I know they’re not two little clones of us, or anything, but I do think Rickie’s a lot like me when I was a kid, and I don’t want him to feel like that, you know? I want him to get it right the first time.

He shrugs. Abed looks at him intently.

ABED:  
You give me too much credit.

TROY:  
What does that mean?

ABED:  
It means I wasn’t perfect in high school, either. I didn’t try to be mean, but I wasn’t too worried about being nice, either--I was pretty self-centered. It’s not an excuse, and it doesn’t mean I deserved to be bullied, but… I don’t think you should be so worried about protecting imaginary high school me from imaginary high school you. We’re not those people anymore.

Troy considers this for a moment, hands slowing as he washes the dishes. He meets Abed’s gaze and nods.

ABED:  
I mean, literally, because we’re clones.

TROY (chuckling):  
Right.

Pause.

ABED:  
I was inconsiderate today. I got caught up in myself and I upset Rickie. I want him to be able to tell me when I upset him.

TROY:  
Yeah, well, there’s a line.

ABED:  
He doesn’t know where the line is.

TROY:  
And this is how he learns! It’s not like I’m sending him out for a switch. It’s just a couple of hours to cool down and think about what he’s done wrong, and if he hasn’t gotten it and apologized by morning, I’ll talk to him.

ABED:  
I think I should talk to him.

TROY:  
Okay.

ABED:  
And I think I should do it now.

TROY (tersely):  
Okay.

ABED:  
Do you think I should wait?

TROY:  
I don’t know, Abed. You can do what you want--he’s your kid, too.

There is a long pause. Abed’s hand clenches and unclenches on the kitchen counter.

ABED:  
I love you.

TROY:  
I love you, too.  
(Half-smiling)  
Will you come over here to kiss me? My hands are all sudsy.

ABED:  
Yeah.

Abed crosses the kitchen and kisses him, resting one hand on Troy’s back. CUT to

INT. TROBED APARTMENT/HALLWAY

Abed walks up to Rickie’s door and knocks. There is no answer.

ABED:  
Can I come in?  
(Pause)  
I’m coming in.

He opens the door. He’s carrying a green bowler hat, clearly a St. Patrick’s Day prop, and he pauses for a moment. FULL SHOT of Rickie lying on the bottom bunk, facing the wall, with his arms crossed. Abed walks over and sits at the foot of the bed.

ABED:  
Have you ever heard of Carnac the Magnificent?  
(Beat.)  
That’s okay. It’s an old bit, and a little bit racist. There was this comedian named Johnny Carson who would put on a turban and pretend he could divine the answers to questions written in a sealed envelope. I only bring it up because I’ve got this magic bowler hat that makes me a little psychic. It’s good for having conversations with people who don’t want to talk to me. Should I put it on?

Rickie folds his arms tighter.

ABED:  
Okay.  
(He puts the hat on and sits very straight, hands on his thighs, mostly addressing the wall.)  
I’m sensing that… you’ve met weird kids at school, and at your foster home, who get picked on really bad. And if people try to stick up for them, they get picked on, too, so it’s easier to pretend you don’t notice. I’m sensing that you care a lot about your brother and you’ve always been worried that people are going to pick on him, or both of you, for his hearing aids, or for being in a foster home, or for being the new kids at school, or for having two dads, or because… sometimes you _feel_ weird, and you’re worried that eventually someone’s going to notice.

RICKIE:  
You’re _not_ psychic.

Abed takes the bowler hat off.

ABED:  
No, I’m not. I’m right, though, aren’t I?  
(Pause)  
Here’s the thing, Rickie: trying to be normal doesn’t work. Trust me, I’ve tried. Sometimes people are just bullies. They’re mean to people because being mean makes them feel good, and no matter what you do, you’re only safe until they find an excuse to pick on you. It can be anything. They’ll always find some way to call you weird, because there’s no such thing as a normal person.

Rickie sits up and turns around, fed up.

RICKIE:  
That’s not true.

ABED:  
Yes, it is.

RICKIE:  
No, it’s not! Normal means the same as everybody else. If you’re like everybody, that makes you normal.

ABED:  
Yeah, but is anybody actually like everybody? Everybody’s different in some way. Maybe they dress normally, but they eat weirdly. They have a regular job, but they always wear funny ties. They’re easy to talk to, but they don’t like Pixar movies. There are a million different ways to be different.

RICKIE:  
Dad’s normal. He’s _cool_.

ABED:  
He’s very cool. But that definitely doesn’t make him normal. Most grownups don’t build pillow forts, or cry at sad commercials, or tell bedtime stories about the time they actually got captured by actual pirates. Plus, he married me. Do you really think someone could marry a weirdo like me if he wasn’t a little weird already?

Rickie glares at him, then throws himself back down on the mattress. Abed frowns.

ABED:  
That’s why Dad was upset before, and why he asked you to think about this, because as you grow up, you’re going to realize that everyone you meet is a little weird, and you’re going to have to choose: either you can be the kind of person who sees everyone’s weirdness as an excuse to be mean to them. Or you can see it as the thing that makes them special. Like the X-Men.  
(He waits for a response. None is forthcoming)  
Do you want to talk about why you were mad at me?

RICKIE:  
No.

ABED:  
Okay. I’m sorry I was late. And I’m sorry for not listening to you. I promise I’ll do better. Good night.

He stands and goes to the door.

RICKIE:  
Um.  
(He takes a deep breath. Quickly:)  
If you decide to give me back what happens to Leon?

Abed frowns. He turns around.

ABED:  
What do you mean?

RICKIE:  
If I go back to Miss Christine, does he have to go too or do you get to keep him?

Abed tilts his head, trying to make sense of this and coming up with nothing except a feeling that this is very bad.

ABED:  
But we’re not giving you back. We don’t want to. We _can’t._

RICKIE:  
Yeah you can. She said the adoption wasn’t finished yet. She said it takes six months--that’s why that lady keeps visiting.

Abed urgently crosses the room and sits down, leaning closer. He touches Rickie’s shoulder.

ABED:  
Rickie, just because it isn’t finished doesn’t mean we can change our minds. The six months is just in case we turn out to be evil parents who keep you locked in a cupboard under the stairs, or if you have secret biological relatives who want custody, or-- Look, it doesn’t matter. It’s nothing you need to worry about. You’re our son. We love you. We’re keeping you.

RICKIE:  
You like Leon _better_ . It used to be just me and him, and I was in charge and I would take care of him and everything was great, and now--  
(He sniffles, trying not to cry.)  
Now you guys are always doing stuff with _him_ and I never ever get to do what I want and it’s not _fair_.

Abed freezes, momentarily in over his head.

ABED:  
I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t know.  
(He hesitates.)  
It’s not that I like Leon better, it’s just that I understand him better. I’m pretty good at guessing what he’s thinking, which is unusual for me, and I don’t always know what you’re thinking. But I want to get better. Okay? I’m trying. I’ll get better.

POV SHOT: Abed can see Rickie’s shoulder and a little bit of his forehead, but not his face. He rubs a hand up and down his back.

ABED:  
You remember the first Saturday morning cartoon day we had, when we watched Lilo & Stitch and you got really upset?

RICKIE (mumbling):  
They were gonna take Lilo away.

ABED:  
And you said that wasn’t fair, because Nani was trying so hard. It _was_ sad, but… you know that’s not the same as you and Leon, right? Nani was an adult, and you’re a kid. You don’t have to take care of your brother, because someone still needs to take care of you. And maybe it’s our fault for thinking that you didn’t need as much attention just because you’re older or because he’s Deaf and you’re not, but it’s not your fault. If there are things you really want to do, or if you’re scared about something, or… or if you miss your mom and want to talk about it, you can talk to us. You can talk to us and we’ll try to help. Okay?

Long pause. Rickie gives a small nod. Abed rubs his back again.

ABED:  
It’s late. You’re probably tired--I’ll let you get some sleep. Good night.

He stands, then HIS POV as he notices the plush alien toy shoved under the bed.

ABED:  
Do you want Slagathor?

Pause. Rickie sits up, sniffs, and nods. Abed hands him the toy, and he immediately lays back down, squeezing it tight.

ABED:  
Good night.

RICKIE:  
’Night.

INT. TROBED APARTMENT, HALLWAY.

Abed shuts the door and leans against it for a moment, eyes wide and staring down at nothing. He takes a deep breath and releases it slowly.

TROY:  
Hey.

He looks up. Troy is cautiously hopeful.

TROY:  
Everything okay?

ABED:  
I don’t know. Maybe. I think he needs some time by himself.

TROY:  
Okay. Leon’s already in his PJs and he’s brushing his teeth now. I’ll get him settled in the other room.  
(He yawns.)  
I’m pretty tired--I think I’m going to bed, too.

ABED:  
Okay. I’m going to stay up for a while. Good night.

TROY:  
Good night. You okay?

ABED:  
Fine.

TROY:  
I or Y?

Pause.

ABED:  
Y.  
(More confidently)  
Y.

Abed walks to the living room and sits down on the couch. In the background we can hear Troy and Leon talking indistinctly and the sound of doors opening and closing. The camera remains on Abed, staring at nothing. When everything is quiet, he takes out his phone and places a call. He holds the phone in front of him on speakerphone. It rings several times, and then we hear the sleepy, grumpy voice of GOBI NADIR.

GOBI (offscreen):  
Abed. Do you have any idea what time it is?

ABED:  
No.

GOBI (offscreen, sighing):  
Of course you don’t. You’ve always been terrible with time zones. I had to crush a Xanax in your Yoo-Hoo to get you on the plane when we went to see Grandpa in Gaza. I’m in Detroit for Auntie Zaineb’s birthday--it’s after midnight here.

ABED:  
Oh. Sorry.

GOBI (offscreen):  
I’ll live. Is everything okay?

ABED:  
Yeah.

GOBI (offscreen):  
Do you mean that?

Abed puts his feet on the couch, knees crowded against his chest.

ABED:  
I think so. It’s not easy, but I think it’s okay. I’m sorry.

GOBI:  
I told you, it’s fine. I went to bed late, anyway. You know your uncle, he drinks coffee after dinner and he doesn’t shut up.

ABED:  
No, I mean, I’m sorry I didn’t make it easier for you when I was a kid. I guess I always thought that kids more or less raised themselves, aside from the occasional motivational speech, because that’s what happens in most TV shows. Even the Rugrats were able to have lots of adventures without adult help or supervision, and they were just babies. But that’s not true. Parenting takes a lot more work than people think, and it’s really hard to know if you’re doing the right thing when you don’t understand your kid and when he won’t even talk to you about it. I can’t imagine doing this alone.

Pause. Through the phone, there is the faint sound of a siren and the bed creaking under Gobi’s weight.

GOBI (offscreen, quietly):  
You don’t have to apologize, habibi. You were a good boy. I worried about you, but every parent worries. You gave me less to worry about than others. And let me tell you something--all you have to do is keep them fed and housed and safe, and make sure they’re prepared to leave you. That’s what parenting is. Okay? Don’t spend too much time worrying about if your children like you. That’s the problem with Americans; they want to be best friends with their children, and when it doesn’t work, it hurts their feelings and they forget what’s important. Being there is what’s important.

Abed swallows and nods, then realizes his father can’t see him.

ABED:  
Thanks, Dad.

GOBI (offscreen):  
You’re welcome.  
(Pause)  
You’ll do a good job. You’re nicer than I am.

ABED:  
I guess. And I’ve got Troy, so... You’re coming for Thanksgiving, right?

GOBI (offscreen):  
Yes. Who else will be there?

ABED:  
Just our friends from college. Troy’s mom is going to be at his aunt’s house, so she’s coming over the weekend instead, and his dad can’t come because Nana Barnes doesn’t fly. Mom couldn’t make it.

GOBI (offscreen):  
Just me and your weird codependent friends. Great.

ABED:  
And your grandsons.

GOBI (offscreen, more warmly):  
Right. I’m looking forward to it.

ABED:  
Good. Text me your flight details so we know when to pick you up. Tusbah ala khair, Baba.

GOBI (offscreen):  
Tusbah ala khair, Abed.

The call ends. Abed rests his elbows on his knees and drops his forehead onto his crossed arms. He takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. CUT to a few minutes later. Abed, now in pajamas, climbs into bed. He looks at Troy, who is sleeping peacefully, and touches their foreheads together. He closes his eyes.

INT. TROBED APARTMENT/THEIR BEDROOM, MORNING

Abed opens his eyes and looks down at where Troy is snuggled into his chest. He closes his eyes again and puts his arm around him. A few seconds pass and Troy yawns, shifting closer.

TROY:  
You’re still here.  
(He sniffs.)  
You haven’t even showered or anything.

ABED:  
Do I smell?

TROY:  
You smell cozy.

ABED:  
I don’t think that’s a smell.

TROY:  
Yes it is. Shut up. Too early to argue.

Abed smiles and coils a lock of Troy’s hair around his finger.

ABED:  
Okay, it’s a smell.

A peaceful pause.

TROY:  
Been thinking in my sleep.

ABED:  
Anything cool? Robots? Dinosaurs?

TROY:  
Nah, not that I can remember. I don’t mean dreaming--I mean I went to sleep thinking something and now I’m thinking something else, so I guess my brain was still working on it.

ABED:  
Oh, what were you thinking about?

TROY:  
About what we were talking about last night. About me being scared of… I don’t know.  
(Sighs.)  
I thought I’d worry about big things, like what if they totally hate us, or if they broke both their legs or got taken like in _Taken_ or had to go to rehab or wanted to drop out of school or whatever, but it’s not just big stuff. You know? It’s everything. A tiny thing we do could turn out to be a big thing, and we wouldn’t know until it started to go wrong. Maybe it only feels like I’m doing okay. Maybe I’m really making mistakes all the time. So when I see something that I _know_ I need to fix, I just--I felt like I had to do something.

ABED:  
I don’t think you’re making big mistakes. You’re really good at this.

TROY:  
Thanks. Anyway… I’ve been thinking about that, and about Rickie, and I’m going to let it go, like you asked.

ABED:  
Cool.

Troy props his chin on Abed’s chest.

TROY:  
You know why?

ABED:  
Because he’s a good kid.

TROY:  
He is a good kid. And because I trust you.  
(He kisses the underside of Abed’s jaw.)  
Because you’re a great dad.  
(He runs a hand through Abed’s hair and kisses under his ear.)  
And a great husband… and a total hottie…

They kiss. Troy wraps his arms around Abed’s neck and Abed rolls them over, and they make out for a while, clearly intending to go further--until there is a knock on the door. Abed breaks the kiss, and Troy sighs.

TROY:  
Remember that list of problems and solutions? We forgot to figure out a plan for kids ruining our sex life.

ABED:  
It’s our own fault for having the plot-related conversation first. Morning sex scenes only get to play out if the plot-relevant conversation comes at the end.

There is another, quieter knock. Abed sits up.

ABED:  
Come in.

FULL SHOT as the door swings open slowly to reveal Rickie and Leon, the former looking shy, the latter mostly sleepy, yawning, holding his brother’s hand and his astronaut bear.

TROY:  
Hey, guys--what’s up?

Leon rubs at his eyes and scrambles up on the bed. He crawls between the two of them and collapses on the pillows, closing his eyes. Rickie looks at Abed, then down at his feet.

RICKIE:  
Are you going to pray this morning?

He glances up again. REACTION SHOT of Abed, trying not to react.

ABED:  
Yeah. I’ll be right out.

Rickie leaves. Troy and Abed look at each other. Troy shrugs and offers a hopeful smile, then closes his eyes. CUT to:

INT. TROBED APARTMENT/LIVING ROOM

Open on Rickie, sitting on the couch and swinging his feet. He looks up at Abed’s entrance and hops up. He walks over to where his blanket is already folded next to the prayer mat. Abed joins him and lifts his hands.

ABED:  
Allahu Akbar. Subhana Kal-lah hum-ma wabi hamdika wata-bara kasmuka wata’ala jad-duka wala ilaha ghyruka.

Rickie does his best to mumble along although it’s mostly nonsense. DISSOLVE to a few minutes later. Abed sits back on his heels and looks over with a brief, tentative smile.

ABED:  
Asalam--

Rickie hugs him, burying his face in Abed’s chest. Abed hugs him back. They’re quiet for a long moment.

ABED:  
This might be too niche to be a Field of Dreams reference.

RICKIE:  
Huh?

ABED:  
Field of Dreams. It’s a movie about fathers and sons who don’t get each other bonding over an activity. But in that case, the activity is baseball, which is just about the most American activity it is, and if we changed it to Muslim prayer, it would come off as a preachy statement about “America now.”

RICKIE:  
Oh. What about basketball?

ABED:  
Basketball could work.

Rickie sits back on his heels.

RICKIE:  
Is it a good movie?

ABED:  
Sure. We’ll watch it sometime--it’ll make your dad cry. Not that that’s hard, but Field of Dreams made _my_ dad cry, and I had to force him to watch it in the first place.

RICKIE:  
Is it a cartoon?

ABED:  
No.

RICKIE:  
Oh, then we’ll have to watch it a different time. It’s Saturday.

ABED:  
Right.  
(He looks over his shoulder.)  
Well, I don’t think those sleepyheads are going to be joining us anytime soon. You want to get started on our own?

RICKIE:  
Okay. Can we watch Into the Spider-Verse again?

ABED:  
Always.

Rickie gets up and sits on the couch. Abed joins him, picking up the remote and turning on the TV. Happy, last-scene music starts to play as they settle in. There is a few inches of space between them at first, but after a moment, Rickie slumps against Abed’s side. Troy, carrying a still-sleepy Leon, joins them on the couch.

If Abed were making a movie, it would end there, with the song and the couch and his kids and his husband and maybe a slow zoom-out on their apartment building in the golden morning sunlight. Well, except for the credits scene, obviously--because the study group are such popular guest stars that the movie couldn’t end without the Thanksgiving cameo. It would open on the door to the apartment opening to reveal all four of them wearing more-or-less matching suits, singing “Troy and Abed, Rick, and LEEEEEon!” in unison.

And then a full shot of the rest of the study group, bursting with energy, beaming, laughing, and clapping. In addition to the adults, Shirley and Britta and Jeff would have their children, and they’d all be carrying food and beverages. There would be overlapping greetings and reactions, the most audible being Jeff’s “Please tell me those were their names when you found them.”

And then there would be a montage, with more happy music--Frankie shaking Rickie’s hand, Shirley finger-spelling her name to Leon, Gobi proudly showing off the boys’ first lumpy attempt at falafel, Leon saying hello to Sebastian, Annie showing off the beginning of a scrapbook, Britta pretending a high-five from Rickie broke her hand, Elroy attempting to do “got your nose” and Leon totally not falling for it, Shirley and Troy trying to beat each other in a “show off cute photos of your kids” contest. Ending, finally, for real, on a chaotic group family photo at the dinner table as the credits end and the words fade to black.

It’s not a movie, though. It’s real life, and in real life Abed smiles to himself as Troy drapes an arm around the back of the couch and Miles Morales slaps away a radioactive spider, and the camera just keeps rolling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Timothy Olyphants were harmed in the making of this chapter.


End file.
